Wake Before The Sun
by comintrix
Summary: A semi-modern AU. Elsa is unwell. Anna is lonely. Their favorite memories take place before sunrise. But when the sun come up, when their lives begin to move, how can the changes possibly be good? [Eventual Elsanna warning]


_Greetings -_

_To all new readers, welcome. To old friends, it's good to see you._

_I've decided to try my hand at an Elsanna story set in an AU. The story will mimic Frozen to a certain degree and we'll see how well I can or cannot incorporate certain elements of the story. Many elements have been modernized and the supernatural element largely removed and replaced with other factors. _

_I hope to write for you an adventure._

_The first chapter is exceptionally long. It follows the backstory and setup. I don't know how long future chapters will be, but we'll find out. _

_I hope you enjoy._

* * *

Her first vivid memory starts waking from a dream. She doesn't remember the dream, but she does remember the pathetic cries that woke her. On a whim, she swung herself out of her blankets and onto the cold floor, her toes tickled by the chill of the wood. She pulled her small blanket along as she pattered out of her room and down the hall. She remembered how her parents had told her that the baby needed time alone with her mother. She had been patient for three whole months, but she had almost never seen the thing. They were so cautious, so scared for this little one. They had told her, several times, stories of her own first year on this Earth; how sick she had been, how frightened they had been. She was well now though, she was sure, but they still wouldn't let her near the baby for more than a second. She was so very curious.

The little one had been fussy since her first day. Before she got used to it, Elsa had spent several nights waking to the cries of the baby and the footsteps of her parents as they rushed to soothe the child. This was the first time that they had not run to the nursery with urgency. Elsa suspected that they were simply very, very tired. As she entered the nursery, she shielded her eyes against the moonlight that streamed over the bassinet and dragged her feet in her grogginess. The wailing cries had already turned to sniveling whimpers by the time she entered the room and continued to soften as she got closer. She had to rise onto her toes to be able to see over the side of the cradle and gripped the sides with her arms.

At first, the baby continued to whimper, her eyes shut and crying. Fascinated at finally being able to see the baby that had been born New Year's Day three months ago, her little sister, Elsa grinned a toothy grin and stretched her arm towards her.

"Hi baby. I'm your sister Elsa." She spoke in a whisper and touched her finger to the baby's soft skin. Instantly, she opened her eyes and stopped crying. She looked directly at Elsa, bewildered, and blinked several times. Elsa smiled and wiggled her fingers in front of her. Her sister looked happy and grasped them, tugging them back and forth with glee. Elsa giggled and tried not to lose her balance.

"Anna!" she giggled and worked at getting her fingers free. "I like you, Anna." Elsa leaned her head on her arms which rested on the edge of the cradle, her eyes drowsy and lidded. Anna cooed and yawned wide, kicking her blanket away from her feet.

"When you get big, I'm gonna show you my toys and my books and we can play games together." Anna made a face that looked something like a grin, but was quickly taken into a yawn. The yawn found Elsa and she fixed the blanket over her sister. She eased back off of her tip toes and began to sink to the ground, wrapping herself in her own blanket. As she laid her head on the carpet, her eyes were already fluttering.

"I like you, Anna." She mumbled, her eyes falling shut and her breath coming more slowly.

Her father and mother, in a panic the next morning, had rushed to the nursery when they realized that they did not wake up for the baby. Her father stopped short in the doorway when he saw his elder daughter next to the bassinet. When her mother caught up, he put his arm around her waist, pleased and relieved.

After that day, while Elsa still officially had her own room, it was very common to find her in Anna's nursery. It happened often enough that when they brought in Anna's big, new crib, their parents also brought in a plain bed for Elsa, having found it rather pointless to attempt to lure the youngster into her own bed. Elsa became first in line to wake up and soothe little Anna at night. She made faces, danced, and told stories until her little sister fell back to sleep. And, when Elsa was in the room, Anna slept better.

The trend continued as the two grew and by the time Anna was ready for her big bead, they decided to turn Elsa's room into a play room. When Anna learned to walk, she would tumble out of her bed at sunrise to wake Elsa for a story or to play with her bears. Elsa always woke with a smile and indulged whatever silly request Anna had.

Anna's first fuzzy memory was the morning that she woke Elsa before sunrise. She climbed onto her bed and shoved her as well as a newly-four-year-old could. She woke with confusion on her face.

"Anna, it's too early. The sun isn't up. Are you alright?" She flopped over, her arm playfully slapping onto her sister. Anna giggled and clutched the arm.

"Elsa, today is my birthday! We have to play!" She twisted back and forth, pulling her sister's body and humming with excitement. Elsa found herself chuckling at her sister. She took her arm back from the girl and turned toward her.

"How would you like to start the day, little sister? A story? A game?" Anna turned toward the window where the new January moonlight filtered in, tinkering off tiny bits of dust. Anna didn't speak at first as she considered the possibilities available to her.

"I want an adventure." She stated quietly, pulling Elsa's blanket up to her chin.

"What sort of adventure?"

"Let's go outside." Anna spoke with dreamy sureness while she reached out and played with the twinkling specks of dust as they floated in front of her. Elsa was confused.

"Are you sure it would be alright? I don't know." Anna quickly turned over and covered Elsa in a dancing hug.

"Oh please, please, please, Elsa! Can we please?" She jostled the girl around and Elsa struggled playfully to get lose.

"Anna! Anna! Alright, Anna, we'll go out!" She sat up and fixed her blankets before nudging Anna off.

"Get your shoes and your hat and your coat. If Momma finds out I took you out without a hat, she'll be so mad." Anna rushed to her side of the room and gathered her things as Elsa got her own. Just as Elsa finished tying her shoes, a scraggly set of shoelaces stomped to stand before her. She looked up to Anna's grin.

"Pleeeease?" Her little sister begged. Elsa took the laces in hand and began knotting them.

"Papa says that you're supposed to tie your own shoes now that you're four." Anna whined.

"But Elsa, your bows are prettier than mine!" Elsa smiled and finished.

"Button up." She warned, as she opened the door to their room. The two little girls crept past the doors of her parents and the maid and the cook before reaching their door. Anna eagerly reached for the knob, but stumbled. Elsa caught her arm and shushed her as she opened the door just slightly. She pushed Anna through and closed it behind her.

Once in the hall of their building, the girls began to giggle as they ran down the flights of stairs that would let them out into the night. Struggling with the heavy front doors, Elsa tripped through the entryway, but Anna linked their arms together and they righted themselves. Anna gasped as she looked out over the morning twilight.

"Elsa! The snow came for my birthday!" She pulled her sister toward the street. At such an hour, the vehicles were few and the people fewer. They were practically alone in their city. Elsa tried desperately to have Anna slow down, especially as they sprinted across the road and into the park, but Anna would not be tamed. Once safely in the park, Anna dropped to the ground and rolled in the dusting of powder white. She took up a handful and tossed it at her sister. Elsa was startled at first, but quickly dropped to her knees to push wave after wave of snow at her sister.

They rolled and tossed around on the quickly gathering snow and chased each other farther into the canopies of the park. The first hints of daylight began pushing over the reaching edges of their island city and painted new red onto the girl's chilling cheeks as they played. Anna laughed with abandon, Elsa giggled in uncontrolled ways that she had been told were unfit of a young lady. Their tossing of snow created a sort of fog around them as it mixed with the settling flakes, encasing them in a secret world.

In an instant, Elsa slipped and fell to her bottom, but she stopped moving. She stared ahead blankly. Anna still laughed for a moment, thinking that she had simply toppled her big sister, but quickly realized that she was not rising.

"Elsa?" Anna approached her sister with curiosity.

Just outside of the now dissipating snowy mist, a little blond boy stirred against the white tailed deer which he rested. He had woken to giggling, but noticed that it had stopped quite quickly. He pulled his ratty jacket up against the snow and began walking to the two small figures that stood in the path.

"Elsa, wake up." He heard a tiny voice whine as he got close to them. The darker haired girl sat next to the bigger blonde girl, holding her hand and examining her face. When she noticed the boy, she looked up to him, tracks of tears rolling steady down her cheeks.

"Mister, help! My sister won't talk to me!"

"Wha's wrong with 'er?" The boy spoke with the accent of Papa's cook. Anna put her arms around her sister securely.

"I dunno!" She cried. The blond boy looked around, hoping to see anyone else that could help, but they had come into the park quite a way from the road. As suddenly as she had faded, Elsa blinked rapidly for a moment, before going slack in Anna's arms. She sat up as well as she could and looked around.

"Anna?" She put her hands on her sister's arm softly, a deep confusion in her eyes.

"Elsa!" Anna screeched and held tighter.

"Anna, I can't breathe!" She pushed her sobbing sister to sit beside her and held her hands. She scanned around her, trying to remember what had happened when her eyes landed on the blond boy. He looked down at her with concern.

"You should go home." He paused for a moment, crinkling his nose. "Ya have a home, right?" Both girls looked at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course." Elsa said quietly. The blond boy quickly grabbed Anna's arm and fumbled to help her up.

"Well okay. Good. Le's get goin'." Anna got up and she and the boy reached to help Elsa. As she got to her knees, her eyes rolled and she fell to her hands.

"I don't feel well." She breathed slowly and carefully, all color drained from her already pale face. The boy crouched and carefully stood up with her.

"Ya look awful. C'mon." He motioned to Anna to take her sister's other arm and help them along. They walked slowly and Elsa stumbled often. The boy struggled to keep her up and Anna held tight to her sister's arm. As they reached the edge of the park, a plump older woman with a cart of vegetables took notice of them.

"Children!" She called out to them, setting down her cart and going to them.

"Is she hurt?" The woman had the thickest accent of all and it was very different from the boy's.

"She's sick!" Anna cried, tripping on the new snow and stumbling to the ground. The woman caught the weak blonde girl and scooped her up. The little boy helped Anna up and the woman spoke to her.

"Where is your house?" Anna pointed and they all quickly walked the blocks to the building. Around the stoop and across the street were the girl's parents and the house workers. The chef saw them first.

"Mr. Arendelle! The girls!" The man shouted, all eyes suddenly on the group coming down the block .

"Papa! Elsa's sick!" Anna ran to her father. He scooped her up as the older woman met them. The blond boy hid behind a stoop. Mr. Arendelle kissed Anna on the head before handing the girl to her mother. The woman handed Elsa's drooping form to her father. His deep, concerned eyes looked down at his daughter and them up at the woman.

"Thank you." He said with quiet sincerity. She nodded and the family ran off to get Elsa to help. The woman watched them go until they disappeared around a corner. She exhaled a deep sigh and ran her hand through her hair as she turned back to return to her cart. As she passed the stoop where he hid, she noticed the mop of blond hair.

"Bambino." She smiled, offering her hand to the boy. He came onto the sidewalk, hands in his pockets and looked frightened, but perturbed. The woman gasped when she finally was able to look him over.

"Oh, Madonna! Look at you!" She grasped his chin and examined his dirty cheeks. He scrunched his face and whined a little. She picked at his jacket and noted the holes and tears and saw that his shoes had no laces and that the soles were coming lose. She pushed up the sleeves of his jacket and saw how his skin followed the shape of his bones, as if there was nothing between them.

"You come with me, you need to eat." She took his hand in hers and he followed without resistance. He kicked up the snowflakes and looked at his feet while he walked. They were both quiet for a moment.

"My name is Sabrina, little boy. What is your name?" She looked down at him as they walked. He sucked on his lip and didn't speak. She tugged his arm a bit.

"Now, little boy! Sabrina is going to help you. Be a good little boy and tell me your name."

"Christopher." He said quietly, still watching his feet. Sabrina threw her head back dramatically.

"Christopher! My son, he is named Cristoforo, but we call him Crissie. He is a good boy. He makes excellent sweets. Maybe I will have my Crissie make sweets for Christopher." They walked to her cart and she handed him carrots from it, insisting that he eat them. For the rest of the day, Christopher sat on Sabrina's cart and she spoke with him and the other vendors and customers.

They hailed an early morning taxi when they left the plump woman and swiftly made their way to the hospital with the sickly Elsa. The day rose while Anna spoke with the doctors to tell them what she had seen happen to Elsa and Elsa recounted what she could remember.

After that day, Elsa was often unwell. She spent many days sleeping and rarely woke early with Anna. The Arendelle parents brought in a private tutor for the girls in light of Elsa's condition. Elsa learned to read well and was very bright. Anna was still too little for tutoring so she spent the days playing with the cook and the maid.

In the summertime, at the begging of both girls for some activities aside from short strolls in Central Park, the Arendelles planned a weekend to Long Island. The shore was close enough to rush home if need be and far enough to feel like a vacation. Elsa was well for the whole trip. She and Anna woke early, built sandcastles, and frolicked carefully in the wake. Anna splashed all around Elsa who sat at the shoreline reaching to tag the other girl. Their parents always watched carefully. In the evenings, a fire would be set in the pit on the beach and Elsa once again told Anna stories while the adults spoke of the recent liberation of the formally German controlled countries.

When they returned home, there were more strolls in the park and walks around the city for the girls. Their parents were cautiously confident that things for Elsa may have been improving. Their cousin often made visits to the apartment and the girls went adventuring through the halls. Every time one of the girls tumbled though, there was a great commotion. Elsa was not without the occasional bad day, but she was much better.

Anna's fifth birthday came and went as 1945 opened. In march, a weekend upstate was planned for Elsa's eighth birthday. The girls learned to ski, but all activity was very slow, the lingering taste of Elsa's illness laying heavy. On the morning of Elsa's birthday, Anna was again awake before sunrise. She rolled onto Elsa's side of the big guest bed and made a mess of her sister's blonde hair as she softly sang her name. Elsa groaned and half opened one eye.

"Anna, go to sleep. Aren't you tired? We were up late drawing." Anna fell backwards over her sister's belly dramatically.

"But Elsa! Today is your birthday! We need to do something! We need to make all day fun!" Elsa chuckled and tossed her little sister off of her.

"I think sleeping is fun right now." Anna, ever impatient, pulled her sister's cheeks.

"Elsa, have you ever made a snowman?"

"No, Momma doesn't like us to go out when there's lots of snow. You know that." Anna pulled a different way.

"But Elsa, look at all of that snowman fluff!" She thrust her sister's face toward the window and laid her own cheek on her sisters.

"We never play in the sunrise anymore." Anna pouted sadly. Elsa smiled. She pushed her blankets off and slipped from the bed. Anna was instantly chattering in excitement and following her. Elsa shushed her.

"We can't go far from the house. And we can only go out for a little bit." Anna nodded enthusiastically before she bolted under the bed in search of her boots. The girls shuffled quietly down the halls until they made their way outside. The snow of the previous night settled along the balcony in slopes and valleys, pristine like the skin of a newborn. Both girls marveled at the sight, the cobalt sky bleeding its color to the starshine reflecting from the snow.

"C'mon!" Elsa took Anna's gloved hand and trudged with giggles to the handrail of the balcony. She helped Anna climb the rungs and sit atop the rail. She pulled herself to sit beside her and linked their arms.

"Watch this." She said bravely as she pushed off of the rail into the snowy slope that met it. The girls slid down and away from the house, laughing at cheering. When they stopped, Anna jumped and clapped.

"Let's go again!" She pulled Elsa back to the house and they rode down once more. This time when they stopped, the girls waved their arms and legs in the snow. When they got up, Anna jumped in the center of her shape.

"A snow angel!" Elsa nodded and smiled. She was struck with an idea and bounded out of her shape, beaconing Anna to follow.

"Watch." She made a snowball, put it in the snow, and began pushing it along. The ball grew and grew. Anna watched eagerly and, when Elsa showed off the snowball that was half her size, Anna quickly dropped and began making her own addition. Elsa made a second snowball and helped her little sister put the body together. She tore some branches from a tree and poked a face into the snowman. Anna climbed and quickly fell from the back of the snowman. As Elsa chuckled at the flip of her sister into the drift, Anna noticed the first rays of the morning sun falling over the mountain tops.

"Elsa, let's go down the slide one more time!" She trudged to the balcony and Elsa followed, but she noticed a foul feeling around herself. By the time they reached the balcony, she was feeling very unwell. She grasped her sister's arm, intending to have them return to their bed, but Anna's excited face softened her. She had Anna lead her to the railing and tried to hide the sweat that had begun along her brow as she helped her sister up. When Elsa managed to get onto the railing, she quickly found her eyes slipping closed.

"Anna..." She whispered, quickly faltering. Anna panicked and stood on the slippery rail.

"Elsa!" She screamed, just as Elsa began to shake and fall backwards. Her flailing arm hooked Anna's leg and threw the younger girl into the railing before they both hit the ground.

Awoken by a shout, the Arendelle parents rushed outside, barefoot and barely covered by their robes. Mrs. Arendelle screeched when she saw her daughters. Elsa convulsed in the snow on the porch and Anna laid in an awfully shaped heap next to her. Mr. Arendelle rushed to Anna, at a loss of what to do with Elsa in her state. He very carefully lifted the little girl and listened near her mouth.

"She's breathing." He called breathlessly to his wife. A pair of neighbors appeared on the side of the house, concerned by the shouting. They rushed to Mr. Arendelle and the girls. The woman went to Mrs. Arendelle to try to console her and the man went to Mr. Arendelle's side. By then, Elsa gone limp and still. The neighbor picked her up and followed as Mr. Arendelle lead the way to the car.

There was a rush that followed the accident. Elsa went for days of tests and was seen by a dozen doctors. Anna didn't wake up for two days. When she did, she tried to tear out the dozen and a half stitches the crept from her hair onto her forehead. The girls did not see one another until they finally went home. They slept for the whole ride back and for many of the days that followed. After nearly two weeks, Anna was mostly back to normal. Elsa however, was not quite so. Their parents were terrified for the girl. After her second seizure shortly after they returned home, the doctors had warned them against having her participate in anything very physical until they were able to find some sort of treatment for her. So, Elsa spent a great deal of time reading.

One day, Anna entered into Elsa's room while she read.

"Elsa, read me a story. Please?" She climbed into the big, plush chair that their parents had bought her when they moved her back into her room. Elsa moved over and smiled softly at her book as her sister balled up at her side. She read aloud the book to Anna, but avoided looking at her. The large bandage over her sister's forehead made her feel like crying. After a while, the girls were comfortable reading with one another. A strange taste crept into Elsa's mouth. She quickly found herself engulfed in the taste and pushed away from Anna.

"Elsa?" The youngster questioned as her sister slid from the chair in a daze.

"Anna, I..." Anna swiftly went to her sister and tried to figure out a way to help, but suddenly found herself under the bigger girl as her body tensed and she fell forward. Anna called for her parents as Elsa began to shake. She shimmied from beneath the girl as he parents arrived and her mother helped her get out. She clung to her mother's dress as she watched her sister.

"Come, Anna." Mrs. Arendelle said through a shaking voice as she picked up the girl and brought her to her own room. Her father stood in the doorway a few minutes later.

"I'll call the doctor." He said softly as he walked down the hall. Anna still held tight to her mother.

"Come here, baby." She lifted Anna's head softly by her chin and saw the blood through her bandage. "We'll have the doctor take a look at you too."

"Momma, what's wrong with Elsa?" The look on her mother's face scared Anna.

"I don't know, Anna." She pet the girl's soft, brown hair.

"Can she still read to me and play with me?"

"I don't know." Her hand stopped and she took a deep breath.

"Momma, are we gonna fix her?" Her mother bit her lip and her eyes began to water.

"I'm sorry, Anna."

The doctor came and sent both girls to the hospital. Anna needed new stitches and her arm had been broken in the fall. She left in a plaster cast. Elsa was sent for more tests and sent home with a prescription. Elsa started to eat different meals than the rest of the family. Anna asked the cook Charlie why and he told her that Elsa had a special body that needed special food. When Anna saw the maid Molly washing bloody droplets from Elsa's dress sleeves, she was told that Elsa had a special body that needed a special potion that sometimes made her skin unhappy.

Anna barely saw her sister anymore. She slept often. Molly told her that Elsa's potion made her very tired. Anna spent lots of time by herself. She made best friends with her dolls and created elaborate kingdoms with her blankets and blocks. It was her turn to make up stories. She had a dozen imaginary friends.

On a late spring day, Anna's aunt brought her cousin to visit. It was one of the rare times that Anna got to play with other children. The girls ran the halls and tumbled around her room, but her cousin suggested that they play spies listen in on their mother's chatting. As the girls hid around a corner, their mothers had tea in the living room.

"I don't know what to do with all of this. They have her on this medication that gives her a terrible rash and has her sleeping half her life away. She hasn't had a..." Her mother looked around carefully before she spoke softly. "...seizure... in a while."

"You know if she has a fit out there, they'll try to commit her." Her aunt held her tea in her lap.

"They already tried. Didrik argued for hours with the doctors."

"My brother, the stubborn boy. Iris..." She placed her tea on the side table. "Have you considered that, perhaps an institution may be the best place for her? The most safe place?" Her mother snapped her face up and her eyes burned.

"Absolutely not." She gripped her teacup with a shaking grasp. "She is my daughter." Her aunt nodded.

"But do consider how it will look, Iris. If anyone knows about her fits, your whole standing can be taken away. Didi could easily lose his position with the boys in the company. A child like that is seen as a weakness in the blood." Her mother's hands shook violently and Anna swore she heard the china begin to crack. Her aunt put a hand on her mother's.

"You and Didrik will figure something out." Her mother put her tea on the side table and closed her eyes for a moment.

"What will I do without you, Mariane?" Her aunt held her mother's hands and soothed her thumbs over the backs.

"You'll get by."

After her cousin left that day, she didn't visit anymore. Her father told her that she had moved with her parents to another state. Anna was sad, but more so she was lonely. As Anna got older, she got her own tutor to work with. She knew that children usually went to school and to the playground and played with other children, but Anna figured that she was not much like other children. Sometimes, her mother took the girls to walk in the park or on a shopping outing, but Elsa always wore big hats and long sleeved dresses. In the summer, Anna thought that her sister must have been very warm. Even when they walked by playgrounds, Anna decided that she didn't want to go if Elsa couldn't play as well.

As she grew, she did her best to show Elsa that she was still her friend. She drew pictures for her sister and left them on her pillow while she slept. She scrawled stories as best she could while she learned to write and tied little books together with twine for her. She asked Molly to teach her to sew so that she could make Elsa her own personal warrior doll. She always wished that Elsa would finally come and play again, but it was not meant to be. Anna was not too distraught, but as the years passed with few good conversations between them, Anna stopped trying. She read her own books and wrote stories for herself and drew pictures and sketches for herself. She became quite good.

Every March when Elsa's birthday came around, Anna woke before the sun. She didn't ever try to, it simply happened. I was as if her body knew. She would wake Elsa and do something sweet for her. When she was little, she would put on shows with her dolls for the drowsy girl or sing nursery rhymes softly, careful not to wake their parents. As she got older, she would brush and braid her hair while she told her about the things that she was learning or the things that she had been thinking about at the time. Elsa loved those days. She loved them dearly, but she rarely spoke and didn't often look at Anna.

To her credit, Elsa tried. She tried hard when she was young to let Anna know that she was still her best friend. She quietly sang along with Anna when she danced in front of her bed. She tried to write stories for Anna, but they never sounded good to her anymore. She tried once or twice to have lessons with Anna, but looking up at the scar on her head was a permanent reminder of how she could and had hurt her sister. If she was going to make sure that Anna was safe, she needed to make sure that she didn't get too close. That idea only plagued her more as she got older. With each passing New Year's, she gave herself another reason not to go to the small celebration that Anna had with Molly and Charlie. Every New Year's, Elsa had a seizure. Every single New Year's.

Perhaps it was a side effect of the medicine that she took, but as she got older, Elsa cried more. Every time she woke from a seizure, she cried. When Anna left her things, she cried. Her mother often held her in the large plush chair, even after Elsa was getting to be the same size as her mother. She clutched her mother's dress for hours in silence and her mother hummed as she held her.

Elsa made sure that every New Year's, Anna woke to something wonderful. She would plan for weeks and work for hours. At first, she would sneak into Anna's room after everyone was asleep and arrange her toys into some silly scene for the little girl. One year, she hung snowflakes cut from sheets of paper and tied to strings from pins on the wall and tied them to her bedposts. Another year, she stood on Anna's desk and chairs and hung colorful paper fireworks from the ceiling. For her 14th birthday, Elsa had drawn on yard after yard of craft paper and made a seascape for Anna. For her 16th, Elsa took advantage of the fact that Anna was an incredibly heavy sleeper and stuck pin after pin into the half of Anna's hair not on her pillow. When Anna woke, Elsa could tell the moment that she had looked into the mirror by the laughter that roared into the halls.

At first, Anna had no idea who would set up her toys or leave her little dolls, but as she got older, she figured out that it was Elsa making her these gifts. She wanted to thank her sister, she wanted to let her know that she still loved playing with her, but she figured that if Elsa did everything while she was asleep, she didn't want to be thanked. She always slipped a little paper heart under the door each New Year's evening before she went to sleep.

And then the summer of Anna's 16th year and Elsa's 18th came. With it, a pain through their souls so terrible that it felt as though nothing would be good again. Her parents took a train to her cousin's wedding. Elsa had not been well at the time and they decided that she would not come to the wedding. Anna, in turn, refused to go without her sister, instructing her parents to send her best regards to her cousin and to tell them that she would soon see them. With Elsa. The train derailed and burned before it reached her cousin.

When the telegram reached them, Molly was reluctant to show Anna. She first brought the slip of paper to Charlie, hoping that he would know what to do. After asking for several hours why the two of them looked so ghastly, they handed the telegram to Anna without saying a word. She stood like a stone for a half hour, staring at the little slip of paper that may as well have stabbed her between the ribs. When she finally snapped out of her head, she ran to Elsa's bedroom. She fell full bodied against the door and cried. Elsa carefully opened the door and took her sister's hand, leading her to the big, plush chair to sit. With great concern and without a word, Elsa took the telegram from Anna's hand. As she read it, her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Anna held her own stomach as she sobbed and Elsa gripped the carpet as she cried into it. As Elsa's body betrayed her in its malfunction, Anna cried harder, feeling more helpless than ever before.

Anna and Elsa slept the night in those exact positions. They woke late in the morning, numb and stiff from their sleep. They refused the breakfast that Molly brought them, they refused to leave the room. Anna fell asleep slouched against the wall the second night, Elsa half-laying on the large plush chair. On the third day, their aunt arrived. She literally picked the girls up off of the floor and lead them each to soak in the tub, Anna first, then Elsa. "A good, hot soak helps clear the mind." She had mumbled in a daze of her own. She had the girls sit across from each other at the table and asked Charlie to make them a broth, insisting that they must eat something. After the girls took not more than a few spoonfuls, she gave up trying and sat at the head of the table between the two of them. She faltered a few times before she found the words that she wanted.

"The funerals will be in two days, girls." Anna instantly put her face in her hands and sobbed quietly. "The caskets will be closed. We'll have a photograph of each of them. There will be a procession and they will be buried in the church's graveyard." Elsa looked ahead of her; hearing, but so very numb.

Two days passed in a whir. The night before the funeral, Elsa pulled her face from the wide tear stain on her pillow. Automatically, she shuffled down the hall to the door of her parent's bedroom and closed the door quietly behind herself as she entered. When she turned to the room, she saw the lump beneath the covers. She nearly screamed.

"Elsa?" A weak and cracking voice muffled from under the pillow before Anna pulled up her heavy head to look at her sister. Elsa avoided her gaze as she had done for a long time.

"It smells like them." She croaked, trying to beacon her sister. Elsa tripped and stumbled to the bed as she cried thick tears, finally wrapping herself in her parent's bed linen and throwing her head under the pillow as Anna had done. Anna moved towards Elsa, reaching her hands out, longing to be held as her mother had held her. Elsa wanted desperately to hold her sister, but she was already feeling unwell and as not willing to risk hurting Anna again, not then, certainly not at that moment.

"No, Anna." She pushed her arms away and turned her body away from the girl, shifting as close to the edge as she dared. Anna would have sobbed, but she had nothing left. Instead, she held her chest and shivered as a tearing burn demolished her from inside. Elsa felt so much at that moment. She felt sick, she felt pain, she felt horror and unease so great that she had the sensation of falling.

In the morning, Mariane stirred them both and lead them to their rooms to dress. Anna dragged her feet and held her arms tight against herself as she made her way to her room. Elsa faired far worse than her sister. As she closed the door to her room behind herself, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of illness. It was then that she realized that she had not taken her medication in days and that her not eating was likely going to make things worse. These were the thoughts before her mind failed and her body fell into fit. Anna heard the thud and shuttered, knowing what it meant.

After an hour, their aunt gathered them. Anna did what she could to remain strong and stood straight as she stepped out of her room in her black dress and veil. They went to gather Elsa, but found the door locked.

"Elsa, it's time to go." Mariane called softly thorough the barrier. There was no response at first, which stirred a panic in Anna.

"I can't." Elsa cracked from the other side.

"You have to!" Anna shouted, falling against the door.

"I can't." Elsa repeated, softer this time. Mariane looked down sadly.

"Come with me, Anna. There's nothing we can do." Anna pulled away fiercely from her aunt's hand.

"I can't go without Elsa! I can't!" She cried out and backed away. Her aunt reached out with a hopeful sadness in her eyes.

"Anna, please." Her aunt stared at her for a moment, waiting. Anna pulled her arms to her chest and ran to her room. With a great sigh, Mariane gathered her shawl and slowly made her way out.

Anna sat in her room for a while, not crying, but staring. She heard the door shut when her aunt left and then again when Charlie and Molly went. When the sun began to dip, Anna abruptly rose and threw her veil across the room. She kept her strong stance from earlier and stepped heavily to Elsa's door. She tried the handle, but it was still locked. She tapped coolly on the door at first.

"Elsa..." She tried, holding strong. She was met with silence. She knocked more fiercely.

"Elsa, we're missing our parent's funeral, I would like to at least speak to my sister." Her hands began to shake as her strong face began to shatter. Her knocks turned to pounding and slapping helplessly at the oak, sometimes slamming her whole body against it as she sobbed.

"Elsa! This is not fair! This is not at all fair! How can you do this?" She sobbed and shook and eventually slid down the door to lean against it. She curled her knees to her chest and heaved wailing howls into her arms.

In the darkness of Elsa's curtained room, the older girl lay helpless next to the door. Her body was weak and her mind near delirious. She curled up and held herself tight and tighter as Anna's sobs and banging became more frantic. She wanted deeply to go to her sister, to tell her that things would be better, that she was still her sister, her best friend.

But Elsa just couldn't. Years and years of days spent alone and separated told her that she wouldn't know what to do anyway. She convinced herself that it would be better, better for Anna, if she not try and then make matters worse. She couldn't bear to be the cause of more suffering for her sister. So she pulled the suffering onto herself and kept the door locked.

A few hours passed and little changed. Anna's sobbing subsided and she returned to staring. She did not move from her spot against Elsa's door. She took a shuttering breath and leaned her head back.

"I don't know what to do." She waited, hoping for a response but knowing that she wouldn't get one.

"Elsa, things used to be different between us. I used to think you were magical. When you first got sick, Molly called your medicine 'potion'. I used to think you had powers because you took potions. For a long time, I made up this long, giant story about how you stayed away from everyone because you didn't want people to know that you were magic. And you did all of these secret things for me and that only made the story more real. And it made me feel like I had a little bit of your magic.

"But then I grew up, Elsa. I'm not stupid. I know what's happening to you. Do you even know what's happening to you? Maybe you're scared. I don't know what you would be scared of, it's not as if you have tuberculosis. People can't catch what you have.

"But Momma and Papa were always so touchy about you. They were scared. Papa was especially scared. I always wanted to help you with your magic when I was little. You never wanted to play, though. I can't even remember why you stopped being my friend. I can't remember when you started taking the potions." Anna's resolve was thrashed. Her tears slid down her cheeks easily and she spoke against the lump in her throat.

"Why won't you talk to me, Elsa? What did I do wrong? I promise, I can make it better." She ran her sleeve across her eyes and choked on her breath.

"Elsa, why don't you love me anymore?" She barely pushed the words from her throat. She couldn't speak any longer. She let her tears fall down her neck silently. The hall was silent and the emptiness buzzed in Anna's ears.

A slight crinkling snapped Anna's attention downward. Slipped under the door on her left side, was a lightly faded, coarsely cut paper heart. At first, she didn't know what to make of the gesture. Was her sister mocking her at a time like this? But then, she remembered. She remembered that the miserable little scrap was the first heart that Anna had slipped under Elsa's door on a New Year's evening. She wasn't completely sure what Elsa meant by slipping it back to her, but she hoped it was for comfort, and that's how she was going to take it. Anna took the paper and held it close to her heart as she got up and returned to her room.


End file.
